When Alice Met Danny (9 page)

Billy came over and unclipped the tailgate. He glanced across at Max. ‘In the barn?’

Max nodded. Billy pulled a couple of lengths of timber off the back of the truck and onto his broad shoulders. At that moment, Max’s phone started ringing. He pulled off a glove and checked the number. He didn’t recognise it, so he answered formally.

‘Burrell Brothers Builders. Can I help you?’

He heard a woman’s voice on the other end of the line. ‘Good morning. My name is Alice Grant. My surveyor told me to contact you.’

‘Of course, Miss Grant. Peter rang me earlier this morning. He tells me you’ve bought a house in Beauchamp that needs a bit of work.’

‘More than a bit, I think. He’s drawn up a long list of stuff. I was wondering how you were fixed. Would there be any chance of your being able to start fairly soon?’

After Peter’s call, Max and Reg had already discussed this. It sounded like the sort of job that could be knocked off fairly quickly. ‘That should be all right. We’re just finishing off a big job in the next few days. We are booked to start another, building three houses, at the beginning of June, but we could probably give you most of the month of May.’

He heard her intake of breath. ‘Wow. That would be marvellous.’

‘Shall we meet up on site and see just what’s wanted? How about this afternoon, say about half past four?’

At half past four, Alice was waiting outside number 23. She was very impressed to see the truck arrive only a couple of minutes later. Two men climbed out of the cab. There was an unmistakable family resemblance in spite of the fact that one was a good six inches taller than the other.

‘Good afternoon.’ Alice held out her hand. The shorter, probably older, man smiled and held his palms in the air. They were dark brown, his finger nails black.

‘I’d better not touch you. I’m afraid we’ve been digging out a drain this afternoon. Your hands look a tiny bit cleaner than mine.’ He had a friendly smile. ‘I’m Max Burrell. This is my brother Reg and his hands are even worse.’

Alice gave them both a smile in return and beckoned them in. As they were at the front door, Max looked down at the puddle of water in the front garden. ‘Spill something, or have you got a leak?’

Alice was very impressed at how observant he was. ‘A leak, I’m afraid. The water company are coming to fix it later this week. If it’s my side of the meter, then I pay. If it’s their side, they pay. It’s obviously been leaking for ages. The surveyor says that’s what has caused the dry rot in the lounge.’ Neither of them looked particularly horrified at her reference to rot. That was heartening.

She gave them a copy of the surveyor’s list and walked them round the house. They shared his feeling that the floors and ceilings should go and the kitchen should be extended. They glanced into the rear garden and cheered her immensely by offering to start by clearing that up. By the time they had finished their tour, and she had declared herself more than happy with their rates, she was feeling much happier. The fact that they could start as soon as the following Monday was a quite unexpected bonus. She had assumed she would have a long wait to find a good builder.

‘It’s really wonderful that you can begin so soon. Do you think you will be able to do it all in just one month?’ The two brothers looked at each other. It was Max who answered for them.

‘We should be able to get all the building work done by then. There’s nothing too major to be done after all.’ She blinked. Pulling down ceilings, removing a wall, replacing floorboards and creating a whole new bathroom, not major? She was very impressed.

Reg chipped in. ‘After that, it will be the plumber, the electrician, kitchen fitters, carpets and so on. You won’t need us.’

‘I’m really very grateful to you for fitting me in.’ She meant it.

‘That’s fine. We always try to help Peter if we can. We’ve worked with him for years. Anyway, he tells us you are living next to his Auntie Agnes in Woodcombe. We’ve got to look after our local clients.’ Max was smiling.

‘Are you from Woodcombe, then?’

‘Used to be. We’re both in Exeter now, but we’ve still got a lot of work in Woodcombe. In fact we are just finishing off at the manor there this week.’

Alice didn’t realise there was a manor. ‘I don’t really know the village very well yet. Where’s the manor?’

‘It’s called Manor Farm nowadays. It’s the Tremayne place. You must have heard of them.’

Alice nodded, trying not to look too interested. Natural curiosity took over. ‘Is it a nice place?’

The brothers exchanged glances. ‘I suppose it’s all right, if you like that kind of thing.’ Max grinned at his brother.

‘A bit small for my liking.’ Reg smiled a broad smile. He affected a haughty air. ‘I feel a decent house should have at least a dozen bedrooms. The Manor has only got eleven, I believe.’

‘Wow.’ Alice was impressed. ‘It’s that big?’

‘They’re the biggest landowners round here. The place is magnificent, in spite of Reg’s brickwork.’

‘Mind you, they’ve had their troubles, haven’t they?’ Reg sounded more serious.

‘What sort of troubles?’ Alice was all ears.

‘It’s a long, sad story Miss Grant. I wouldn’t know where to begin.’ Max’s tone made it clear that he was not going to say any more. Alice took the hint.

‘Please call me Alice.’ She gave them a key to the front door and asked what time they would be there on Monday.

‘Seven-thirty on the nail. We work through to four o’clock.’

Looks like I’m going to be getting up early for the next few weeks.
Alice thought to herself.

Chapter 17

The dry rot treatment people came in the next day and stripped the walls, floor and ceiling in the lounge completely. They also ripped out the front window and substituted a sheet of plywood until new windows could be made up. They sprayed everything with a powerful chemical and put up signs prohibiting entry to the building for forty-eight hours. On Friday the water company phoned to inform her that the men to fix the water main had been delayed. She thought it best to tell Max and Reg. She toyed with the idea of satisfying her curiosity by visiting them on site at the Manor, but decided to use the phone instead. When she told them about the delay, they weren’t worried.

‘They’ll be out the front. They won’t get in our hair.’

She spent the weekend unpacking her things and settling into the little cottage in Woodcombe. In spite of her fears, the narrow staircase had been just wide enough for the removal men to squeeze her bed up to the first floor. The sofa rather dominated the lounge, but one way or another, all her stuff fitted in. Her expensive coffee machine looked a little out of place alongside the antiquated Aga, but she didn’t mind. She loved everything about the cottage. She phoned Sally and told her just how she felt.

‘Do you know? It has actually got roses growing around the door. There are old oak beams all over the place, and there isn’t a single right angle anywhere in the house. Would you believe, the place is almost four hundred years old.’

‘No ghost, then? Maybe a handsome cavalry officer who was hacked to death by a jealous husband as he pleasured the mistress of the house?’

‘No ghost, no hacking, no mistress. It feels really right. I’m tempted to sell number 23 when it’s finished, and just carry on renting here.’

‘And your mysterious landowner, have you seen him again?’

‘No, but at least I know where he lives now. It’s a blooming great manor house.’

‘Mysterious handsome man, hundreds of acres, blooming great manor house; that all sounds very promising. But, tell me, any sign of a wedding ring?’

Alice stopped to think. ‘I didn’t notice.’ She hadn’t thought to look.

‘Alice, my dear sweet Alice, it’s so obvious you’re out of training. At our age that’s the first thing to look for. Promise me you’ll keep your eyes open next time.’ Alice promised, not just for Sally’s sake.

That evening she received a visitor. It was Megan the vicar, bearing a bottle of wine. ‘Unpacked your wine glasses yet?’

Alice smiled. ‘First things out of the box. Come in. That’s really nice of you.’

She led the vicar into the kitchen and pulled out two glasses. Megan was not wearing her clerical collar, and not the tweed skirt either. She was dressed in jeans and a pretty top. She looked five years younger. In response to Megan’s queries, Alice told her the latest developments in number 23 and the good news that she had been able to secure the services of the Burrell brothers. Of course, Megan knew them.

‘Max and Reggie Burrell are brilliant builders. They’re Woodcombe boys originally and they know everybody here. You couldn’t do better.’ She pretended to be annoyed. ‘Blast. If only I’d known they were free in May, I’d have got them to sort out the damp in the church.’

‘Oh, Megan, do you want to use them? I’m just a newbie. You take priority.’

‘I wouldn’t dream of it.’ She lowered her voice. ‘Besides which, we haven’t got any money in the repairs pot at the moment. Hopefully we’ll be able to get it done, and find the money to pay for it, before next winter.’

They talked some more and the level in the bottle began to drop. Once she had swallowed enough Dutch courage, Megan came round to her ulterior motive for calling in.

‘I’ve come to ask you a favour, Alice.’ She paused, searching for the right words. After a few moments thought, she opted for the unadorned truth. ‘I’ve been experimenting with computer dating.’ She scanned Alice’s face for signs of disapproval, saw none, so continued more confidently. ‘It’s not easy for me to meet men. I’m a bit like a doctor, in the sense that it’s not recommended to start dating my parishioners. As you can imagine, that rather limits my options.’

‘So, any success?’ Alice’s interest was not merely academic. She had even wondered about online dating herself from time to time. ‘Have you hooked one?’

‘Well, yes, as a matter of fact, but I don’t know whether he’s a flounder or a bounder. And that’s what I wanted to speak to you about. I’m supposed to be meeting him in the King’s Arms at eight o’clock. I was wondering if you would mind coming along to keep an eye on things.’

Alice glanced at her watch. It was already after seven. ‘What, come on your date with you?’

‘No, not quite as obvious as that. I wondered if you might like to come down to the pub around eight for a quiet drink on your own, but keep a weather eye on the bloke who comes up to me and introduces himself.’ She looked across at Alice hopefully. ‘If he pulls out a meat cleaver and chops me into pieces, you could maybe organise a lynch mob.’

‘Of course I will, Megan. I’d be glad to. But, why me?’

Megan looked a bit sheepish. ‘You are a very pretty girl. You must have tons of experience with men, even if you haven’t got your own special one at the moment. I’m afraid I haven’t got that much experience. I would really value your opinion of him. In my present state of near-desperation on the dating front, I am quite likely to overlook defects that would be apparent to you. You know: two heads, swastika tattoo on the forehead, that sort of thing.’

‘You forgot wedding ring,’ Alice remembered Sally’s admonition. ‘I’m not sure I really do have that much experience, but I’m happy to give it a go. At all events, I promise I’ll be ready to leap in if he tries anything.’

Megan gave her a wink. ‘That all depends on what he tries.’

They walked down to the pub together, but went in separately and pretended not to notice each other. Alice found a seat at a table at the end of the bar. From there she was looking straight across to the corner table, where a rather nervous looking Megan had set up camp. The other advantage was that she could order a drink without having to get up. As it turned out, she wouldn’t have had to do that anyway.

‘Can I get you a drink, Miss…Alice?’ It was the taller of the two Burrell brothers, now freshly washed, shaved and manicured – or at least with clean nails.

‘That’s very kind, er, Reg, isn’t it? I’ll have a ginger beer please.’

He bought her the drink and passed it across to her. She indicated the empty seat in front of her. ‘Would you like to join me?’

‘That’s very kind. I’ll be off in a minute.’ He sat down rather awkwardly and looked around, searching for something to say. He immediately spotted the vicar on the other side of the room. ‘Do you know the vicar? She’s been doing a great job since she got here.’

Alice nodded. ‘When was that, Reg? Has she been here long?’

‘Just over five years.’ Alice was impressed at the precision of his knowledge. ‘She arrived just in time for Easter that year. Did you go to her Easter service last Sunday?’

‘I’m afraid I was still in London. Besides,’ she lowered her voice, ‘I’m not really a churchgoer.’ Reg lowered his voice in return.

‘Neither was I till she got here.’ For a moment it looked as if he was going to say more, but the attention of both of them was taken by events on the other side of the room.

A tall man with a shaved head was now standing by Megan’s table. She and he were talking. After a short exchange of conversation, the man came up to the bar. He caught sight of Reg and nodded stiffly. Alice noticed that Reg, stony-faced, totally ignored him. The tall man ordered a pint of lager and a mineral water and took them back to the vicar’s table, where he sat down. Alice looked across at Reg.

‘Do you know who that is?’

Reg never took his eyes off Megan and the other man. ‘Yes, I do.’ There was a pause during which Alice began to despair of getting any more out of him. Then he cleared his throat and continued. ‘Yes, his name is Jack Long; Jacko to his friends, but I’m not sure how many of them he’s got.’

‘You don’t like him, then?’

Reg shook his head. ‘I’ve known him for years. He’s a plasterer. We have worked on sites together. He’s a lying, dishonest little tow rag, and I don’t care who knows it.’

Alice was dismayed. Megan should be told as soon as possible. ‘You don’t think he might have changed, turned over a new leaf, maybe?’

Reg turned towards her. She could see the anger in his face. ‘Only a few months back we had to sort out an old lady’s house after him. He charged the old dear a fortune and did the shoddiest job imaginable. To be honest, Alice, if you hadn’t been sitting here, I would have told him a few home truths. He’s scum. And our Megan’s far too good for the likes of him.’